It’s time to write of unnecessary things,
to imagine alternative endings to journeys not taken.
It’s time to write of bits of string,
one small fake discolored Swiss Army knife,
a lucky pebble that has brought me nothing but its own
preordained boredom.
However, string, knife, and stone
have had nothing good to say about me for years.
I could write of more back-of-the-draw stuff,
or redraw the landscape of my youth
snipping and pasting-in a cast of characters
that never existed,
for it is still true that every tale
needs to be repainted from time to time.
For the time being, I am these hands
wrapped around a muggy mug of coffee,
these thoughts scrimshawed
upon its unwashed rim.
She was a work of art; a time machine of sorts.
A collaboration requiring the most careful focus on details by a cast of characters unseen.
A symphony of one hundred hours, pulled from forms of molten fire.
Until she stood, the gently formed and polished image, as unique as the many hands who assembled her.
Wired to the present reality, electricity brings to life a servant of the highest order.
And he truly loved her much more deeply than he dared try express.
unscripted horror movie
worldwide cast of characters
hosting viral invaders
oscar nominee?
It’s time to write of unnecessary things,
to imagine alternative endings to journeys not taken.
This stained coffee mug
that nudges my elbow like a muddy bible;
it has not been washed for 2 days
but I still read it faithfully, return to it,
until sufficiently caffeinated
with a burning desire, to crash here
on the edge of some other variable reality.
It’s time to write
of bits of string, one small fake
discolored Swiss Army knife, a lucky pebble
that has brought me nothing but its own
preordained boredom.
No, why should I?
String, knife and stone
have had nothing good to say about me for years.
This morning, a little later on, I might
write of more back-of-the-draw stuff,
maybe pen alternative beginnings in a flowing hand,
or redraw the landscape of my youth
snipping and pasting in a cast of characters
that exited my mind a thousand years ago,
but for now, only coffee stains read me
as I drink-in this unnecessary moment
(which I have to mention,
seriously lacks any aspect of Zen
or any other kind of poetic wishful thinking -
at all).
For the time being, I am this being
who signs his name in a muggy mug
with a flourishing shadow ink.
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
We ride across the desert sands
Like pirates out at sea.
Two Humvees accompany me
12 gypsies all we be
We fly the Jolly Roger, a symbol
Big and bold,
We sail a cross the desert sand
Happy pirates what we be.
We sport heavy fire power as we
Sail for liberty.
We have a cast of characters and a captain that be me.
We get our sailing orders and plot and plan you see.
We have a deadly mission, to capture these faces for there atrocities, they display them on playing cards
That makes them easy to see.
We are the sand gypsies that's what we are you see,
So If you happen to see us, with the black flag flying proud, it's just us sand Gypsies 12 jolly bastard were told, you will hear our music playing give me shelter is what it will be, we're just Out on a mission sailing across the desert sea.
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
(Or: Rules Are Written By Idiots, Followed by Fools)
by Ron Arbuthnot
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© ron arbuthnot aka ron wilson
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© Ron Wilson
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
In many travels across this melting pot of a country I have found that every small town has
it's own cast of characters every group has the ******* who cant handle
booze.
The party girl who gets crying and wishes she could start all over again.
And the one to busy living this life to give a crap about what you think or how your
feeling.
After a couple of weeks it gets to anyone the sense of not belonging.
the constant movement it eats away at you like rot gut whiskey.
Once even though in agony you so joyfully keep pouring down your throat.
And the conversations become the same are we but playing a game
saying whatever it takes to get what we want.
But what is it we truley want?
Comfort of a warm body by are side the feeling of flesh apon flesh.
It has to be more than just sex but out here I belive its to feel
what its like to benormal and for one moment pretend you wont be
walking out that door to chase sun once agian.
Living like a pirate apon the land.
Not matter her body's warmth when you leave you never havea chance to
know the bad or the reallity of people.
thats why im forever a tourist.
The assemblage of PEERS rooted;
row after row of cinema seats held them,
in conformity and order, waiting for the main event;
part of a cast of characters, yet to be determined.
Scattered, slouching, sleeping, separated,
white, black, old, young, male, female;
all self absorbed, without discourse.
No one mingled, no eye met;
each individual psyche lost in mindlessness,
shields firmly in place.
In this place of punishment, power and perversity;
the sacrificial lambs of democracy wallowed.
The hollowness of the hall,
mirrored the hollowness of the statement,
“A jury of PEERS?”
The stained acoustical ceiling and fluorescent lighting,
added a further touch of the sureal to the corps ensemble.
How on earth in this nation “Under God?”